English version | Once upon another time

Once upon a time there was a girl who lived a beautiful story because someone reached out to her when she needed it most. This girl grew up and wanted others not to have stories with an unhappy ending, but rather a “Once upon another time” worthy of a fairy tale.

Maria da Conceição fotografada por Branislav Simoncik para a edição de novembro de 2016 da GQ Portugal.

Maria da Conceição has a story as epic as the humanitarian achievements she has accumulated over the years. And whose turning point begins right when she is adopted at the age of two by a woman from Angola: Maria Cristina was a refugee and widow, had six children and offered to help our protagonist's biological mother, who suffered from a health problem and financial difficulties. It was supposed to be temporary, but it wasn't – “a table that feeds six, feeds seven”, said the adoptive mother – and this superwoman, who ended up upbringing another superwoman, was immortalized in the Maria Cristina Foundation that Maria da Conceição created to help other children in need, raising funds for them to have access to education and other basic rights, just as was once done for her. “Although she died when I was only nine, she is the inspiration behind everything I have achieved,” says the humanitarian. “She herself had to make a very difficult new start as an Angolan immigrant in Portugal”, as she had to leave a wealthy life in the African country and, as a result of her husband's death and the vicissitudes of life, she ended up having to work as a maid to survive financially. “She had no choice but to accept the new situation and make the most of it: she had to do whatever was necessary to survive. It was a fresh start. But despite finding herself in a much worse situation than before, she was thinking only about the future and about guaranteeing her children a good life in Portugal. Although she was poor and struggling, when she saw that I needed help, that my mother could not take care of me, she did not hesitate to welcome me. But it wasn't just me, she always helped those in need, she was known for that, people used to come to her for help. Although she had very little, she always shared it with anyone. That's where my inspiration comes from.” An inspiration that served as the fuse for a 24-hour stopover in Dhaka, Bangladesh, to become a lifelong mission. Her work as an Emirates stewardess had always taken Maria da Conceição to many destinations, but little did she know that the most important destination was that of a greater purpose: to save and help local children to have better futures, with access to education, schooling, choices, options. “It was a big change for me, I was giving up on a comfortable life on Emirates Airlines. Furthermore, I had no knowledge or experience in setting up a charity. I had to learn everything from scratch. But I had a vision and I believed in that vision, that of seeing these children from the slums graduating, one day, in high schools and universities all over the world”, she explains. “I felt that I could really make a difference in people's lives, but I had to make a change in my life first; if I really wanted to fulfill my vision, I had to change the course of my life and that meant a new beginning.”

She overcame difficulties and limitations, including – and above all – her own, to do so and create visibility for the Foundation in times of crisis, to raise sponsorships that would allow to continue giving a fresh start to all the children she helps. No wonder that, in 2016, she won the award for Woman of the Year at the GQ Men of the Year Awards. The project started in 2005 and later was formalized as an NGO – she admits that when it started, she needed to learn the ins and outs of the thing and fight against some mistrust, as well as overcoming difficulties that, in fact, never cease to exist: “The most constant obstacle has been the financing. Like any charity, the funding requirement is essential and constant, so there is never time to rest, there are always new bills to pay. But perhaps the hardest barriers to overcome are those in society and culture that constrain the people I try to help. They live in this environment every day, which is why they often believe in the limits that society imposes on them; they are told every day that they are useless and should not try to be anything more than be a housewife or cheap labor, etc. Often, the biggest obstacle for me is making them into people who can be helped, making them understand or believe they can do better.” At the same time, she regrets that she also has “a great battle with the Bangladeshi government, specifically with the Ministry of Law and the Minister of International Relations. Saying they make our lives as difficult as possible is the understatement of the year. They do everything they can to prevent our students and families from having better lives and better opportunities. His behavior is appaling and despicable, to say the least. One might think that a country that needs so much help would welcome projects like ours, unfortunately this is not the case”.

Therefore, she early learned that whatever she had to do, she had to do it for herself, meaning, gaining visibility through achievements that could draw attention to the work. For example, did you know that Maria da Conceição was the first Portuguese woman to reach the top of Everest? But that's not all: she broke a Guinness record by running seven marathons on seven continents in 10 days. Not content, she still ran five marathons in five consecutive days. In 2016, for example, she proposed to swim across the English Channel, which she was unable to complete because the very strong ocean currents got the better of her, seven hours after being in the water. Fail? No, she tried as hard as she could and that's not failing. Even less when you know that Maria da Conceição learned to swim the year before for the sole purpose of taking on this challenge. All in order to facilitate new beginnings in realities too tragic for us to conceive of in our daily lives, to draw attention, not to her work or to herself, but to what needs to be done. And the battle never ends: “Yes, I think [I'm constantly starting over], I think I have to reinvent myself, invent new ways to get people's attention, raise funds or get others' support. When the project was new, it was very easy to get it, but it doesn't stay a novelty for long and people forget very quickly. That's why I started doing physical challenges, even though I didn't have any sporting background or athletic ability. First I went on an expedition to the North Pole, then I started climbing mountains, reached the summit of Mount Everest years ago… of course it got me some attention, but not as much as I could have expected and I was quickly forgotten about. Then I started running and breaking some world records for marathons and ultramarathons, that got good media coverage, but, once again, people soon forget the story”, she sighs. "But I ended up realizing that this is what I have to do, that's what I need, I have to keep reinventing myself, starting over, if I want to keep people interested in my story, in the cause." And that's what she's constantly doing every time she's faced with a new story, a new context, a new child, a new family. It starts again, explaining its purpose, fighting resistance, even within the families themselves: “often, the families I help do not notice the difference and it may take some time to make them understand that there may be other opportunities in life beyond the ones they face every day. When I come across these families, especially children, where most people only see poverty, I see potential. Sixteeb years ago, when I started helping these families, it took them a while for them to trust me, to realize that I was leading them in the right direction for their benefit. Now they trust more, but still, when they really have a new start, like a move to Dubai to study or to Portugal to go to university (we now have more than 30 students at the university in Portugal) – it's an important new beginning, you soon begin to realize that some of the simplest things in our lives are extremely difficult for them. I had to help families with basic daily tasks, such as knowing how to use a bathroom. These things can be fun and easy, but what's hard is changing your mindset to adapt to your new environment, [explaining] that you won't be successful in Portugal or Dubai if you keep the same mindset or mindset that you had years ago in Bangladesh. To really make a fresh start and make the most of a new opportunity, we must overcome the past. The past made us what we are today, we can never forget the past, but we have to be able to think about what I can do today that will make me more successful tomorrow.” And the proof of this are the hundreds and hundreds of success stories that today have a voice and that do not shy away from using it to tell their journey. Like the three that follow, there are more, many more, that Maria da Conceição is compiling in a book entitled Butterfly Stories, whose sales revert 100% to MCF, showing that this process of rebirth is a possible one. Possible, but not easy: “Believe me, climbing Everest, breaking world records, is a piece of cake compared to the day-to-day life of a project in Bangladesh,” she concludes. And she doesn't shy away from being proud of accomplishments as much as pointing out the needs: “Currently, we have 30 students in universities in Europe, two Master's students in the US and Australia; we have fathers and mothers of children, who passed through here, now working in amazing companies in the UAE. We have 22 students in Bangladesh waiting to go to university in Europe – and it's only because of the lack of funding that we can't send them.”*

Labony Akter, 22 years old

“I brought Labony to Dubai last year and she has been working on a paid internship at Masood Automobiles”, explains Maria da Conceição. “She also received an offer to go to University, in Europe, but decided to take a sabbatical to make some more money and go next year”, she concludes proudly. This is her story.

“My life started out as hard as I could imagine. My biological mother died in childbirth and my biological father was a drug addict, so my life began in the midst of uncertainty. My grandmother took on the responsibility, but she didn't even have enough money for our food, because she was sick, so she couldn't even do housework for money. She begged for change and, even so, we could only eat once a day. I was rejected by the rest of my family whenever my grandmother tried to find me a better house for the future. Days passed and neither money nor food increased. So one day, when I was two or three years old, my grandmother took me to the house of a woman, who had two boys and no girls. She accepted me but didn't notify her husband. And when I arrived at the house, they were all furious that she had adopted me. This woman, who I later realized was my grandmother's daughter, managed to convince her husband, but everyone else was still furious. They named me Labony. I don't remember my real name.”

Labony Akter, which means “graceful”, was the name she took. She was born on April 1st, 1999, with another identity that memory – or perhaps the desire to forget – has erased. “My new father used to do odd jobs and had a family of five to feed. It wasn't the ideal situation to accept another mouth to feed, but my brothers loved me from day one. We used to go hungry whenever the end of the month approached”. In the new family, little by little, they ended up accepting her. However, the calm was short-lived. “When my older brother got married and brought his new wife home (there were now six for my father to feed) in 2005, they no longer wanted me at home. His wife didn't like me because she found out I wasn't a biological child. My parents didn't say anything. She lived at home, had more rights than I did”. Two years after the wedding, they had a baby and there were seven people living under the same roof and “having enough food for everyone was challenging”. As if that wasn't enough, other misfortunes befell Labony's life. In 2007, her younger brother died in a car accident and her father lost his job at a textile factory. A few months later, the grandmother – with whom Labony was still in contact – fell ill. The adoptive parents tried to take care of her, but she couldn't resist and died. The family was “flooded with sadness”. But it was necessary to continue to live. So Labony's mother started working “in the houses of rich people” and took her with her. The following year, a light appeared at the end of the tunnel. The family heard that, at the Maria Cristina Foundation (MCF), created by Maria Conceição, it was possible to study, free of charge, so they enrolled Labony. She was 8 years old and could neither read nor write. “Going to school, being an educated person, was my dream. When I joined the MCF [Maria Cristina Foundation], everything changed. Maria gave us education, food, took care of us, gave us everything. She says that if we believe in us, we can do anything in life”, says this “butterfly”. "She changed the lives of 600 children and their families, and mine too."

Labony thus clung to the opportunity that life had unexpectedly given her, in the expectation of having a better future. And even in the family there seemed to be signs of hope: in 2014, the father managed to open “a small tea shop” and, for a time, it was “the only source of income”. But three years later he fell ill and eventually died. “After my father died, my mother had to manage everything on her own, but it was difficult. So I started to go with her to the store to help. But we heard ugly things from people because, in our country, a woman working is a bad thing. So my mom told me to stop going to the store. She didn't want me to suffer." Despite all the difficulties, Labony was almost finishing her studies, when her life took another setback. “In 2018, I had tuberculosis and was unable to take the final exam at school. I lost a year because I was ill”. However, with the help of MCF and Maria da Conceição, Labony recently completed her 12th year and arrived in Dubai to do an internship in a company, in November 2020. “I never imagined that this could happen to me: to have a job, this lifestyle… I still can't believe I'm here!” After the internship, she intends to enter the International Business Management course, in Portugal, and, one day, “be a successful businesswoman”. But to continue studying, she needs financial support. Perhaps inspired by Maria da Conceição, Labony also wanted to demonstrate her willpower. That's why, in exchange for donations, she runs marathons, does push-ups, boards, whatever physical exercise is necessary to reach the goal of education. Her determination and resilience were inherited from her mother who, despite local prejudice, continues to manage the store alone in Bangladesh. “People still say bad things to you, but we can't do anything about it,” she says. “My mother lives with my older brother, his wife and two children. Nobody works. My brother doesn't like to work. He is lazy. It was always like this. My mother supports everyone”. The 57-year-old mother is – by Bangladeshi standards and in Labony's words – “very old”. “She no longer has the strength and feels bad, but she just thinks she has to feed the family. If she doesn't work, there's no food. So she goes to the store every day”. Labony's relationship with her brother "is not good". And she sums it up in just one sentence: "He doesn't like me." In contrast, the mother is “everything” for her – the greatest source of support, encouragement, love: “My mother is everything to me because she adopted me and took care of me. Whatever I get in my life, I want to give it to you. She is very proud of me for getting where I am. She tells me not to listen to anyone, not even people in my family, so I can do what is best for me. She always encouraged me”. Therefore, Labony confesses, emotionally, that, in her life, only two people matter: “I only have two people in my life: my mother and Maria. If they didn't exist, I was nothing. They are my family, my future, my everything. They are angels in my life. I'm nothing without them.”

Salma Akter, 20 anos

“What I report now was registered a year ago”, explains Maria da Conceição. “I brought Salma to Dubai last year for a paid internship at The Qode and she now has the funds and the offer to go to a University in Europe. She's just working on her visa. If all goes well, she starts college in September”, pride travels through the words she writes to us. “This is a story with details that are very difficult to digest. This is a story with details that can affect the susceptibility of the most sensitive. This is a story that needs to be told. Because it's impossible to stay indifferent. Salma Akter was born on January 24, 2001, in Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh.

The conversation between us starts as if Salma has nothing to tell. I feel there is a huge barrier, a wall, something she is trying to protect, something she doesn't want to reveal. We were talking at her pace, slowly. I told her I was there to hear whatever she wanted to tell me. And that if she changed her mind, I wouldn't even write. Because people come first. Throughout the conversation, Salma strives to have a constant smile. That hides a huge pain behind it. Until the revelation comes, amidst bursting into tears:

- My mother was killed by five people. We had a happy family despite the difficulties. There was a man, a family friend, to whom my mother lent money, but my father didn't know. A week before she died, my mother had a big argument with my father and decided to go get the money she had borrowed. It was the 14th of July. I found it strange, because she was carrying the cell phone with our numbers written on paper. Why did she need the paper for if she had the numbers on her cell phone? At night, I was worried and I called him. My mom told me not to worry. Later, I turned it back on and the phone was already turned off. The next day, the same thing. Until we got a call from the police. They had found my mother's corpse. The people who killed her had completely destroyed her. They wrapped a handkerchief around her neck, destroyed her eyes, broke her hands, there was blood running from her mouth. And there was no one at home to fetch the corpse. My dad has heart problems and if I told him he could have a heart attack. I didn't know what to do. I thought about killing myself.

Salma's tears erupt violently. It's impossible not to feel a tightness in your heart, not to suffer from it. Salma is consumed by guilt: for not having done more, for not being able to avoid it, for not being 'strong'.

- I had some money for my education and I gave it to my brother to go get the body. I wanted to bury my mother near our house, but the landlord wouldn't let me. I took her to my grandmother's house. In our religion, we have to take a last bath before burying the body. The smell was terrible, the animals left the body. My grandmother and two aunts gave her a bath. I couldn0t do it. I feel guilty for not having done it. After we did the last rituals, I called my dad to say we needed help, that mom hadn't come back. Just for him to get home to safety. I wanted to keep my dad busy, so I asked him to cook while my mom was gone. In the evening, he started asking about her and I started to tell her little things. Then I told him that she had been killed. He immediately passed out and had a heart attack. I asked God not to make me live through this twice. But my father went to the hospital and the entire responsibility rested on my shoulders.

The father 'was in a coma for three months'. The 16-year-old brother 'was in shock for a year because he went to fetch the corpse and followed all the procedures closely'. Salma, for months, ‘only drank water and barely ate’. From here, life changed. Totally. Salma was studying at the Maria Cristina Foundation and was going to take the exam for the 10th grade. In addition, she used to teach one class part-time to earn some money, but after her mother's death, she started teaching eight classes to help the family. She had to pay her house rent, her father's food and care. Salma confesses that she 'didn't have time to sleep' because she 'was up early to go to school, then go to work and, when she gets home, she has to cook'. So far, Salma had always had 'high marks', but this time she couldn't 'get A+'. And even though she has 'everything on her shoulders', she blames herself for not getting a better grade. After a year, the father 'began to recover and went back to work in a tea shop'. The family had 'a little more money' and Salma was able to regain some stability to dedicate herself to her studies, as she wanted. She completed her 12th year in 2020, and on October 27th of the same year she went to Dubai to do an internship through the Maria Cristina Foundation. In Dubai, Salma lives at Maria da Conceição's house: `Maria is an angel to me. An angel who came to remove my sorrows and give me happiness”, says Salma, emotional and with a wide smile. Salma is 'very excited' about the internship. She wants to be an Aeronautical Engineer or maybe a Chemical Engineer. And she dreams of studying in Portugal. To continue her studies, she needs sponsors. If she doesn't get it, she might not be able to continue studying.

Salma makes of weaknesses her strengths. With incredible tenacity, she has a clear path and is unwilling to let her guard down. At least with most. Underneath that cover of an irreducible woman, there is a fragile girl, who suffers from the loss of her mother, who carries a trauma for life. But the smile clings to her face and to a few – almost none – she lets them see what's behind it. 'Nobody can break me. I am strong in my plans. I will make my family happy'.”

Mazeda Begum

Begum is one of the women who share her story in the book Butterfly Stories, by Maria da Conceição. She's not one of the girls who has enjoyed MCF-oriented education, but she's seen it happen to her daughters, which is the same thing – or even better. It is as follows that she describes, in the first person, her journey from cocoon to butterfly:

“My mother was a maid. Since I was born, I've only seen my father suffer from illness. My mother was the only one who worked in the family and our situation was terrible. There was always scarcity. So my father had to organize my wedding at a very young age”, recalls Mazeda. “Happiness is never written on the faces of the poor. My husband was a drug addict and drove rickshaws for a living. But since he doesn't work, I had to start working as a maid. He never tried to earn a penny for his family. Instead, he used to steal my salary every month; money I had to earn with every drop of my sweat over the 30 days of the month in three different houses. My first child, Rahima Akhter, was three years old when my father died – and when he died, she left my two younger sisters in my charge. With their help, I also had to take care of my elderly mother with my salary. There is no hard job or any man's work that I haven't done while working as a maid, but I still barely manage to have enough for even one meal a day for my family. On top of that, one day when I was coming home from work, I saw my daughter, Rahima, who was just four years old, sitting in front of the mosque begging for food. My chest tightened and tears streamed down my face. I have no words to describe how much I suffered from that moment. My husband beat me all the time, right in front of my kids. He used to always demand money from me to buy drugs and if I refused to give it, he would attack me again.

All of this was before I found the Maria Cristina Foundation that literally saved our lives. Maria advised me to get a divorce and now our family life is peaceful. I couldn't get a job for six months because of the pandemic and it's Rahima who has been supporting the family for the past half year. No, she is not working in houses as a maid. She is working on an online business page while doing her studies!

Yesterday, my daughter Rahima bought a bag of rice, oil, salt and onions. Do you believe this is the same girl who used to beg sitting at the door of the mosque? Nobody could ever imagine that she is now studying at the best English school in the city of Dhaka and dreams of becoming a doctor in Dubai. The girl whose grandmother was a domestic servant, whose mother is also a domestic servant, could easily imagine herself as a domestic servant as well. My youngest daughter Lucky visited Dubai last year and received a scholarship to a local school. My other daughters, Rahima and Khadiza, were selected to go to Dubai for internships. Maria has taken on all kinds of responsibilities for my daughters since the oldest was four years old. Even when the middle one suddenly fell ill last year, Maria arrived in Dhaka overnight and provided medical treatment.

Because we can't take so much responsibility for our own children, Maria does it for them. Maybe that's why these lucky kids love to call her mom. We are, given the previous situation, living a much more peaceful life and certainly a better life. But my family didn't forget the nightmare in the early days. We are all grateful to God and to the Maria Cristina Foundation project. Before we lived in a paper house, now we can rent a house for 4,000 taka [about 40 euros]. Now we can dream. Maria taught us to dream. All our passports are ready. I am learning English with my daughter everyday. Imagine yourself. My daughters are teaching me English! They say that we are going to go to Dubai and I can thank all the people who, alongside the Foundation, helped us to end our days of misery.”

* If you want to know more or contribute to this cause, you can do so through the site, Instagram or Facebook of MCF.